


saturated sunrise like a lilac sky

by charleybradburies



Series: Femslash Big Bang 2016 [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Acting, Actors, Background Relationships, Beaches, Bikinis, Bisexual Female Character, Butlers, Chance Meetings, Community: 1_million_words, Community: femslashagenda, Crush at First Sight, Cultural References, DRAMAtical Lesbians, Day At The Beach, F/F, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Femslash, Femslash February, First Meetings, Friendship, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, Language of Flowers, Lesbian Character, Los Angeles, Meet-Cute, Movie Reference, Nurses, Nurses & Nursing, POV Female Character, Pop Culture, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-War, Post-World War II, Pre-Femslash, Rare Pairings, Second Chances, Side Story, Surfing, Tourism, Useless Lesbians, at loooove, background Peggy/Daniel, i don't know what that tag is supposed to be about but i like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost-Belated Femslash Big Bang Work No. 1 | February Theme: Meet-Cute</p><p>Angie comes West for a role in Howard's next motion picture. She doesn't know her way around, but Daniel suggests the beach. Funny how things turn out, really. </p><p>Title kinda-sorta from Halsey's "Colors."</p>
            </blockquote>





	saturated sunrise like a lilac sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keysburg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysburg/gifts).



> @keysburg: it wasn't entirely based off your ideas, but they were definitely a fantastic starting place, thank you!!!! xx
> 
> @all: Comments, etc. are wonderful and appreciated!!!

Angie’s never _seen_ a world as vibrant as the Santa Monica beach; it’s so much that she’s only ever dreamed, with a sparkling sea and shining sun like spotlights by a stage and it’s _amazing_. How she’ll ever adjust to living so near a place like this, she doesn’t know. She hadn’t even adjusted to Howard’s maid and chef by the time she’d left home, anyways. She really can’t fathom why Peggy isn’t more keen on this sorta life. Angie’s been on the beach only a couple minutes yet and she already knows it’s swell. 

“Miss Martinelli? Where would you like your chair and your belongings?” 

The obliging British voice from behind startles Angie out of her trancelike moment, jolting her back to the portion of reality in which she actually had to do things instead of just staring at water. She marches to a spot far enough from the parking lot that Jarvis rolls his eyes about it but not far enough that Angie’s heels start on hurting before she kicks them off. 

Some other girl’s stuff sits a matter of a few feet away, but she’s content to have a quiet sunny spot just about to herself and is entirely ready to pout should Jarvis suggest she moves back towards other people. (She has rehearsing to do, besides. She _could_ always say that.) He doesn’t make the suggestion, just checks that she has all the things she brought, asks if she wants anything else, and confirms that he’ll be back for her by four. 

She collapses back into the nice folding chair that Howard bought her, and realizes that Jarvis gets far less reasonable requests than any of hers, and quite often. 

Not that Howard was a bad man to work for, no siree...just a little, well, eccentric. He lived up to being both a mad scientist and a colorful millionaire. But he was oh-so-willing to indulge the people he cared about, whether they asked him to or not, and Angie was just as willing to reap whatever benefits she could get from her status as the best friend of his fake cousin. So far, that had included chef service, housekeeping services, a chauffeur - as well as Jarvis as an occasional driver - along with stylish new clothes and cosmetics and now, a new job. 

Oh, and some fabulous scenery. 

She’d never really been out of the city before, a Brooklyn baby-doll born and bred, but she’d known everything was about to change when she’d looked out her teensy plane window down over farmland, then plains, then mountains...the world turned from city lights to a sea of green and she’d ended up in Hollywood, and it didn’t matter what her daddy said because she had a vote of confidence from one of the biggest names in any business and just like so many had before Angie was gonna strike some California gold.

“Need an ear?” someone says all of a sudden, and Angie jumps, only to find out it’s the girl whose stuff is nearby, who’s now returned to her own chair and laid what Angie deduces must be a surfboard on the sand next to it. She doesn’t really seem to react to Angie’s little fright, which, while strange, is something Angie’s grateful for, since she can feel the red coming up into her cheeks.

“With the lines? Or, sunblock...”

The girl’s soaking wet, in a tight purple-and-white striped bikini, and Angie gapes a little more than is probably appropriate, making a confused expression at the same time. 

“Most girls don’t keep their office clothes on at the shore, is all,” the girl adds, searching through the bag on her lounge chair and pulling out a towel to wrap around herself without even dripping over everything else she’s got. 

“Office- oh,” Angie glances at herself in confusion, but realizes that the girl’s talking about her being fully dressed.

“I’m...new in town, if you couldn’t tell…” she fumbles, and stands up, setting down her binder of lines and starting to unbutton her high-waisted shorts from the side; admittedly, she is more comfortable in just the pink bathing suit, even though she soon realizes she doesn’t actually know just why her immediate reaction to the comment was to strip.

The girl sweeps the towel across her stomach and bends down with dancer’s grace and stance to dry her legs...nope, Angie knows why.

She’d been here how long so far? Two days? Not even half a work week, she was already getting sweet on girls like she did. Prolly a record.

“That why you’re back ‘ere, instead of out at the water havin’ fun?” the girl teases, rummaging through her bag again, and Angie figures out that she’s probably a blonde. 

“Well, I...have lines to learn, but I guess, yeah...there really isn’t nothing like this back home.”

“Nothing like water, or women?” she retorts quickly, but then laughs inwardly enough that Angie’s pretty sure that was an inside joke with herself; she leaves the side of her chair and comes over to Angie with her hand outstretched, sand sticking to her ankles as she walks over. 

“Maybe you just need someone to show you around the place. Los Angeles is real easy to feel lost in.”

Her voice is sugary, now, her hand’s warm, and her eyes are more blue than the ocean is. 

“Angie,” Angie forces out a bit abruptly, hoping the handshake airs on the side of professional rather than uncertain.

“Violet.”

_Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me._

“I, uh, work pretty odd hours, but if you wanted to get a tip on a great coffee shop or go to the movies to study Bacall or Hayworth or, maybe learn to swim…”

_Was Angie just that _obvious_?_

“Well, you could make up a lesson plan befitting an up-and-comer, and if you took my phone number you could call me when you’re satisfied with the list of things I should know ‘round here.” 

“Pretty big city, pretty long list. Sure you’re up for it, New York?”

Angie feels just how taken aback she is - how startled she must _look_ \- but Violet only giggles.

“Hear more of that than you’d think makes sense,” she explains, and Angie smiles.

“Sure _you’re_ up for more?”

“Few weeks ago I got a late-night delivery of a friend of mine with a rebar hole through her abdomen. Trust me, translating New Yorker talk isn’t the hardest thing a combat nurse has gotta do.”

Angie has a feeling that story isn’t a coincidence, but Violet, naturally, seems unperturbed as she slips on a hat to go with some nurses’ whites, so for the sake of atmosphere Angie doesn’t mention it.

“We aren’t at war, Captain.”

“No, we just have to live with its repercussions. People’ll look to you for that, too, on screen. It’s worth not bein’ scared of.”

She turns back around to pick up her uniform, and then glances back to Angie.

“Not really the brightest of thoughts, but it-”

“Never really goes away, either,” Angie finishes, the feeling of Peggy’s fear as she’d stepped into Angie’s apartment from the window she’d hid beside all too close to heart again. That was part of why she’d agreed to come, of course, before Howard had even mentioned the motion picture part - getting to know that Peggy came home safe once in a while, rather than waiting for calls that likely wouldn’t come.

She rifles through her bag for the pen she’d brought, and scribbles the phone number of the Jarvis house down onto a piece of notebook paper that she’s got floating around in there for some reason or another. 

“You should prolly go save somebody, but uh, let me know when you figure out that list of attractions.”


End file.
